


Lean On Me

by FantasySwap



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Family Bonding, Fluff and Humor, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Platonic Mistakes, Platonic Soulmates, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 03:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18886243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap
Summary: It starts off small, like all things do. A cut here, a scratch there. Diego has been in a lot of fights in his time, he’s no stranger to bruises all over his body, so when unexplainable marks start showing up in strange places, he doesn’t question it.





	Lean On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Clary and Jonathon got me in the feels so I hope you enjoy <3

It starts off small, like all things do. A cut here, a scratch there. Diego has been in a lot of fights in his time, he’s no stranger to bruises all over his body, so when unexplainable marks start showing up in strange places he doesn’t question it. He shrugs it off, guesses it’s just an aftereffect of one of his spars with Luther. They’re trying to be better now, and friendly fighting is a lot better than non-friendly fighting.

 

It’s only when other people start noticing it that he starts to think maybe, just maybe, it isn’t normal. Klaus is hardly ever at the mansion anymore and Ben pops up randomly from time to time, but Luther, Allison and Vanya are usually around somewhere. Sometimes they eat together or watch TV in the living room when they have nothing better to do. Diego spots them giving him worried looks sometimes, eyeing the way he limps cautiously or the way he winces whenever he puts pressure on his side. It’s not until Five of all people says something, though, that he realises whatever this is? It’s getting serious.

 

“Christ,” Five winces in commiseration one day, hovering at the bar with a margarita in one hand and a book in the other. He looks a little comical like that, with his feet dangling from a bar chair, not even long enough to touch the floor. “Rough night, huh?”

 

Diego frowns in confusion; last night had actually been fairly quiet. He only had to chase down a potential burglar, and he’d done that in five minutes flat. But then he follows Five’s gaze to his arm, to where there are fingerprint shaped bruises encircling his wrist, and he chokes on his saliva. There is no way he can wave this away or explain it: those bruises do _not_ belong on his body.

 

“I— I swear to God,” Diego hisses, panic slowly creeping up from nowhere. “I have no idea how those got there.”

 

Vanya looks up worriedly from where she’s channel hopping through boring daytime TV, and says, “Diego, do you need to, like, talk about anything?” It’s sweet of her, granted, but Diego has never much appreciated the therapist route in conversation and he shies away from it immediately.

 

“No,” he spits out, and then softens his tone when he sees her flinch backwards. “I mean, sorry, no thanks. I’m fine, really. I just… honestly, I have no clue how those got there. Nothing happened, no one grabbed me. That— this makes no sense!”

 

Allison raises an eyebrow, peering over her phone to check Diego’s wrists for herself. They’re dark brown, not yet yellowing around the edges so they can’t have been there long, but the shape and the spacing between each one is uncanny. It looks like someone grabbed him and held on so tight that they imprinted their fingerprint onto his skin, and yet they don’t make any logical sense.

 

“Maybe you got distracted?” Luther suggests, well meaning, from next to Allison. “Sometimes when I’m not paying attention I bite my own—”

 

“Gonna stop you right there, buddy.” Diego interrupts hurriedly, not wanting to hear the rest of whatever Luther was about to say. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for all the concern and everything but I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll wait a few days, it’ll probably have gone away by then.” And he turns around and hightails it out of there, ignoring Five calling his name irritably.

 

It’s not like it is a big deal; Diego can withstand more than a few bruises, even if he has no clue where they’re coming from.

 

***

 

Klaus shows up the next day out of nowhere. Ben isn’t with him so Diego supposes that solves the mystery of whether they left together, but right now it isn’t Ben Diego is worried about. Klaus looks rough, hair messy and in dire need of a wash, make up smudged underneath his eyes so that he looks a little like a feral raccoon. He’s wearing the clothes they all stopped the apocalypse in, and Diego takes a moment to wonder if he’s actually changed out of them at all since.

 

Klaus looks up from where he’s rifling through their father’s desk, dark raccoon eyes settling on Diego. He gives him a guilty sort of smile and ever so slowly stands up, hands behind his back like a schoolchild readying for reprehension.

 

“Diego!” He cries, all innocent and happy and _who_ - _me_? “Funny seeing you here! I just got back this morning, before you ask: I had the most desperate urge all of a sudden to find Mom’s pancake recipe. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere!”

 

“In Dad’s desk?” Diego raises an eyebrow.

 

“He was a man of many mysteries.” Klaus replies sombrely, and then cracks. “Okay, okay, whatever. I just need some money, alright?” At Diego’s look he sticks his tongue out. “Not for that. I’m sober, remember? I just got into a bit of a kerfuffle yesterday and all my hard earned cash was stolen from me. Bandits and thieves, I tell you Diego. _Bandits_ _and_ _thieves_.”

 

“A kerfuffle.” Diego repeats, trying not to lose faith in humanity.

 

“A kerfuffle.” Klaus nods very seriously. “Can you believe one held me back while I was too weak and helpless to do anything about it whilst the other went for my pockets? They have no honour these days! At least I would _thank_ someone!”

 

Diego is about to ask what the hell his brother means by that, but he’s not sure he entirely wants to know the answer. Instead he rolls his eyes and digs out a few twenty dollar bills, counting them out before handing them over to Klaus. Klaus’ eyes light up at the offering and he snatches it away gratefully, air kissing both of Diego’s cheeks. Something in Diego softens a little then, and he can’t stop himself when he reaches out and catches Klaus’ wrist.

 

“Hey,” He says quietly. “You know you can stay here, right? You’ll always have a room here.”

 

Klaus pulls away slowly, with a sad smile on his face. “Thanks, Di.” He says. “But I never much liked my room here.”

 

It doesn’t even occur to Diego that the dark flashes he saw on Klaus’ inner wrist might not be dirt or ink or smudged eyeliner until later, when Klaus is already gone.

 

***

 

The next time it happens, Diego really has had enough. It was one thing when it was just small cuts and bruises - those Diego can handle, because he’s received just as many as he’s dished out - but this is a step too far.

 

They’re gathered in the kitchen, Mom sitting next to Diego and Ben swapped for Vanya. Allison said something about her having a violin recital and Ben showed up last night, smiling and happy to be alive as ever, so Luther had had a rare good idea to all eat dinner together. They’re sat around the small table, a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to Diego’s mouth, when it happens.

 

It just feels like a little tug, at first, at the back of his throat, and then it hits him over the head like a goddamn chair: hardly anything and then everything all at once. He can’t breathe, he’s choking, there’s nothing in his mouth but his throat is closing up anyway. He brings his hands up to scrabble helplessly at his throat like that could do anything and gasps in what little air he can get, but it’s no use. He can see black creeping in around the edges of his vision.

 

“Diego, what the hell?” Allison cries out, and faintly Diego can hear the sound of a chair scraping back against the floor. Then there are strong, powerful arms around his waist and it feels like Luther is trying to crush his rib cage when in fact he’s probably just trying to do the Heimlich manoeuvre. A thoughtful sentiment, but not the problem here. Diego isn’t choking - well, he _is_ , but he’s also not. Diego tries to kick Luther in the shin to get him to go away but Luther just squeezes harder and says, “I think he’s losing control of his legs!”

 

 _So_ not the last thing Diego ever wanted to hear.

 

But then, just as quickly as it started, it stops. He can breathe again and he inhales so deeply that air floods his lungs, and he’s suddenly grateful for Luther’s arms around him because he’s sagging helplessly. He drinks in air like he’s dying for it, because wow, he’ll never take oxygen for granted again.

 

“What… the fuck… was that?” He grits out between pants, glaring at Five for good measure. The man shrugs, looking just as confused as Diego feels, and starts chewing on a mouthful of bacon again like the past five minutes didn’t even happen.

 

“How should I know?” He asks. “Maybe the orange juice Mom squeezed freshly for you went down the wrong pipe.”

 

Asshole. Mom squeezed that for everyone, Diego just happens to be her favourite. From next to him, Mom pats his hand reassuringly.

 

“Something’s going on.” Diego tells everyone sincerely, sliding back into his seat with an uncomfortable pressure when he sits down. Seriously? What kind of illness could Diego have contracted that chokes him first and then hurts his ass?

 

The worst kind, he decides.

 

“Holy shit.” Ben says suddenly, fork clattering to the tabletop loudly. This attracts everyone else’s attention and they look up, eyes slowly widening as they stare at whatever is happening on Diego’s neck. Faster than Diego could probably blink, Allison has whipped her phone out and is aiming it at him, mouth hanging open slightly.

 

Then it’s being thrust into his face, a video playing on the screen. He sees his own neck on screen, skin slowly mottling, a bruise forming right in front of his eyes. He blinks and watches it again to check if he’s seeing things, but when he reaches up and prods his throat it throws tenderly.

 

“That’s impossible.” He murmurs, still a little breathless though maybe now for a different reason. Five finally puts his fork down.

 

“Okay,” he shrugs. “So it’s not the orange juice.”

 

***

 

When he finds out, it’s more than a little chaotic. They’re at the academy - a rare moment where all of them are in one room together without fighting or otherwise getting angry at each other - and instead of getting Mom to cook for them again Allison has ordered take out. They sit in the living room, on the floor with their legs crossed underneath themselves, with three large boxes of Chinese cooling in between them.

 

Ben and Klaus are laughing about something between themselves, Allison, Vanya and Luther are discussing their desired holiday destinations and Five is steadfastly ignoring all of the, in favour of reading a book. Mom is in there with them, but since she doesn’t eat she’s sat on the sofa next to Pogo with the TV playing in front of them.

 

“Okay, share everything out.” Diego says finally, grabbing the nearest thing to him. He’s starving and the noodles smell too fantastic to wait anymore. He scoops a large amount onto his own pate and hands it over to Klaus, ready to dig in.

 

“No thanks,” Klaus instead grabs for the spring rolls. “I’m allergic. Ben, you want some?”

 

Ben shrugs and takes the noodles from him. Diego, who has never really abided by the manners Mom taught him around his siblings, can’t be bothered to wait for the rest of his family to serve themselves and instead just twirls some noodles around his fork. He hasn’t eaten all day, and the first taste has him _moaning_ , it’s practically orgasmic.

 

He’s halfway through his second mouthful when he hears a strange, whimpering noise from beside him. He’s not really sure how he picks it out over the din of the rest of their siblings chattering, but when he looks over he sees Klaus hunched over. His food lays abandoned on his plate, not yet touched, and Diego watches in horror as his face drains of colour. His wide eyes dart upwards suddenly and latch onto Diego’s as he struggles to breathe, and then he’s falling back against the floor and shuddering so violently that it attracts everyone’s attention.

 

It almost seems like he’s having a seizure, but that doesn’t make any sense.

 

“Klaus!” Ben screams, flying over to him and trying to hold him steady. Vanya reaches out and gently pries his hands off gently and looking worried.

 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” she murmurs, watching as Mom gets down from the sofa instantly and scans Klaus over, eyes glowing an eerie blue. Diego watches everything unfold in terror, mind replaying how all the colour had drained from his face in less than five seconds. When he looks over, Five has put his book down and is flicking narrowed eyes between Diego and Klaus suspiciously.

 

“Everything’s going to be okay, children.” Mom says chirpily, hand petting Klaus’ shoulder as his shuddering slowly and eventually stops. Diego thinks she injected him with something but he can’t be sure; he hasn’t really been paying attention, after all.

 

“It would appear he had an allergic reaction.” Mom continues, voice happy as ever.

 

“What?” Ben cries, saying what they all must be thinking. “But he didn’t eat anything!”

 

“No,” Five agrees, and turns to Diego. “But you did.”

 

Diego looks down at his plate and back up at Five in confusion. Before he can open his mouth to ask what, exactly, he is talking about, Five is pointing to Klaus’ limp body.

 

“Look at his wrists,” he urges until Diego does so. At first he doesn’t notice, but when he does he does a double take because right there are the same bruises that Diego has imprinted onto his own skin, the same shape and size and everything. A little further up there’s another bruise on his inner elbow that had appeared on Diego’s body a few days ago unexplainably. A small cut from one of Diego’s late night vigilante sessions is mirrored on Klaus’ cheek, just under his eye, and then—

 

Faint and fading around Klaus’ neck is a ring of bruises: the same ring of bruises that magically appeared on Diego’s throat just a few days before.

 

“It would seem,” Five says drily. “There were more side effects to time travelling than I first thought.”

 

***

 

“So you’re telling me,” Klaus says, deadpan. “That if one of us gets hurt, the other gets hurt too?” His fingers skim the skin on his cheek where blood has dried and glares at the same spot on Diego’s face.

 

“How is that even possible?” Ben asks. He hasn’t left Klaus’ side since he woke up, and though he’ll never admit it, it sort of warms Diego’s heart.

 

“I don’t know,” Five concedes. “I’m sure I’ll be able to reverse it with an equation and another portal, but until then you two need to stay out of danger, okay? If someone wanted to take us out you’d be the weakest link right now.”

 

Diego, who is very strongly against being the weakest anything, bristles. Klaus, who has grown up being told he’s the weakest link, stretches out his legs and points his toes until his joints click, smiling lazily.

 

“How’s this for brotherly bonding?” He asks. Diego rolls his eyes, because if Klaus is being a good sport about this whole thing then dammit he can too! He suddenly feels a lot guiltier for going out vigilante-ing every night: he would never have done that if he knew it was hurting Klaus every time.

 

“By the way, Klaus,” Diego replies, ignoring the other man’s smartass comment. “Who the hell _choked_ you?”

 

Klaus frowns in confusion at first, eyebrows furrowing, but then his eyes settle on Diego’s neck and a slow, delighted smile spreads over his face. “Oh,” he laughs, high pitched and happy. “Oh honey.”

 

Ben snorts. Diego flails, waving his arms in front of his face and shaking his head. “Actually, no, changed my mind. I don’t want to know. Just… stay out of trouble!” He gets to his feet and backs out of the room, still mildly freaked out about getting choked out at the same time as his brother.

 

“Rich coming from you!” Klaus calls after him, a smile audible in his voice. Diego rolls his eyes and, okay, maybe it is a little hypocritical.

 

Still, they’ve got a while until Five figures out how to resolve this issue and get things back to normal. He’s sure he can figure out a way to get Klaus back.

 


End file.
